Miranda’s face flushed and, tight-jawed, she swiveled around and stormed away. Jacob, meanwhile, groaned Holly’s name and came hotly inside of her.
As her cunt butterflied around his cock and she caught her breath, stroking the soft hair at the back of his neck, Holly thought to herself:
If you can’t beat them, join them.
Chapter 28
When Brent opened his door, he looked like he’d been tugged out of a deep sleep, his hair askew, wearing nothing but boxers and an open shirt.
“Miranda?” he grumbled, blinking away sleep.
“Can I come in?” she asked.
“Yeah, sure.” He stepped back, opening the door further for her. “Y’need a ride home, darling?”
Brent’s home was cluttered with old bottles, dirty clothes, and sentimental knickknacks. Miranda twisted in her spot to face him.
“Brent,” she said, “wouldn’t you like to be Alpha?”
“Alpha? The hell’re you talking about?” He squinted.
“Jacob is falling apart,” she said. “He can’t control his Beast. Your clan needs a strong leader.”
“Hey,” he said, lifting a warning finger. “Jacob’s stronger than any of us. I wouldn’t last a day in his shoes.”
“Maybe,” she said. “Or maybe you’re stronger than anyone realizes.”
Brent went to the door, opened it, and then said, “You’re trying to put a rift in the clan and I ain’t having it. I want you to go.”
She dropped her shirt and let the fabric crumple on the floor. “I want to stay.”
Brent’s jaw went slack as his eyes fixed on her. “Aw, hell,” he muttered and began peeling his shirt back.
Miranda smiled. Two can play this game, bitch.
An Alpha’s Mate
(Part 3)
Chapter 29
On the outside, everything seemed perfect. For a couple weeks after biting Holly and giving her the mark that made her his mate, Jacob had been tame. Relaxed. Happy. Human. He laughed. They kissed. He even took her out to dinner, real dinner. He taught her to ride the horses in the stable. Mama Mae taught Holly her very own arctic salmon recipe, which involved coating the fish completely with salt and letting it bake. It was delicious, Jacob could attest to that.
But in the dark of the night, when everything was quiet and still, Jacob’s Beast would rattle around inside of him. It crept up on him, slowly.
(I’m still here, it whispered in his ear. You can’t get rid of me that easily.)
The strong, aggressive urges weren’t quite as violent or explosive as they’d been before the marking, but they were still there, tapping incessantly at the edges of his sanity. At night, he dreamed he was the Beast, large, lumbering, powerful. King of the night, his heavy paws sinking into the earth as he ran through the woods. In his dreams, he climbed the tallest trees, rolled in the summer-crisp water, and ripped the flesh of other, lesser bears with his strong, steel-hard jaws.
He woke up sweating, thirsty, like he could drink the black out of the inky night sky and still not be sated. Jacob sat up and threw his legs over the edge of the bed, raking his fingers through his hair.
“Jacob?” Her voice was an instant soothing balm, like a cool touch on a spot of sunburn. “Are you okay?”
And yet…he didn’t want her to see him. Not like this. He was supposed to be her mate, her Alpha, strong. She should be proud to wear his mark on her throat—
But like this, he just felt weak. Trembling in the face of his own Beast.
The blankets slithered and he felt Holly’s soft lips press to his shoulder. He felt the life in her, he could smell her perfumed, lavender human smell, and it made his heart ache. “Come back to bed,” she murmured.
“I’ll be right back,” he growled and got up. “Go back to sleep.” He yanked his pants over his hips, tossed a shirt over his shoulders, and barreled out the room.
He left the front door and walked out to the porch to sit on the steps. He gazed out beyond Red Moon Ranch and let his vision fill up on stars and night sky and black, rolling hills. He reached into his pocket for a smoke and found a pack of e-cigarettes instead. With a Post-it note attached: Try these. :)
Dang it, woman. Wasn’t anything sacred? She was lucky she was so damn cute. He tilted the e-cigarette pack to his nose and sniffed. Under the bitter mint smell of the flavored smoke packs, he could smell a distinctly Holly scent. White wine, sweet berries, the newly cracked spine of an old book. He took her in and felt his boiling blood begin to simmer down, his heart slowing to a normal pace. He longed to go back to bed, curl up against her, shove his face in her red hair and just inhale her scent until he choked on it.